


Serving The King

by KY Lowell (TachyonStar)



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Demon Sex, Other, Tentacles, demons have both sets of bits I'm sorry I don't make the rules
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:28:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23417491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TachyonStar/pseuds/KY%20Lowell
Summary: You serve Urizen faithfully in all he does; your obedience has not gone unnoticed - and will not go unrewarded.
Relationships: Urizen (Devil May Cry)/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 33





	Serving The King

**Author's Note:**

> \--SO YEAH I.
> 
> This was entirely spawned by some tumblr shenanigans a while back and quite honestly, I probably ought to have given up on it after I bashed out a few paragraphs and then let it sit for a while cackling internally about the shit I was doing, but I did not. _I finished it_. RIP me, stuck into the monsterfuckery at long last.
> 
> You're _welcome_ , you filthy, filthy animals. ~~he says as if he isn't one himself~~

"The deed is done, my lord," you murmur, head bowed in deference as you kneel before the demon king's throne.  
  
Impassive as ever, Urizen stares down in utter silence, and it is all you can do not to squirm as you await an answer that isn't coming; just as you're beginning to seriously wonder if you have displeased him somehow, though, he finally inclines his head in what seems to be the barest hint of a nod and shifts, his elbow settling on one twisted branch of an armrest, propping his head on a heavily armoured fist to eye you in a manner you secretly find almost _amusingly_ casual. "So it is," he intones flatly, a low rumble that seems to shake the room and sends a frisson of nervous excitement through you, the reaction nearly manifesting itself as a trembling of your shoulders before you can get it under control. "Admirable - both in speed and in technique. Perhaps you will serve me far better than the last pitiful few to disgrace my realm--" and you do tremble at that, at what might be a _compliment_ freely given by the ruthless demon, at the implication that he was _watching_ you as you carried out the task he had assigned you, but he seems not to notice how you shake and instead continues on. "Yes, your power may be exactly the means to the end I desire. For that," he sits up straight, gaze sharpening, and you feel as if you are pinned to the spot beneath nascent emerald eyes, your body instinctively flattening submissively to the gnarled roots beneath you. "It would only be proper to grant you a reward."  
  
The very _thought_ makes you shiver, makes you bite your lip, your claws digging briefly into stone-like bark before you can stop yourself reacting, and you're half hoping that he reads it as fear rather than excitement should he notice it. "A reward, my lord?" you breathe, and thankfully, your voice is steady. "You are truly magnanimous. I thank you for your benevolence."  
  
"Do not misunderstand me," Urizen says, the words ending in something nearly a snort, and the very ground suddenly seems to quake around you, sprouting thick and flexible branches that curl round your limbs and lift you, pulling you high into the air so you are held uncomfortably spread-eagled directly before the intensity of his stare. "This is no _benevolence_ , little peon. This is for the benefit of my own self, the fulfillment of my own plans. You are but a sapling, a mere sprout - and I, the tree that shall spread my roots through the pitiful mortal world to rebuild it anew in my own image." One of the branches pushes itself rudely beneath your chin, forces your head up though you're trying valiantly to tuck it down against your chest in nervous embarrassment, and his piercing eyes seeming to bore straight through you is not helping you relax in the least. "There can be worth in even the smallest of seeds; that worth is why I allow you to stand at my side, to continue existing. But should that worth _disappear_..." the branch scrapes along the underside of your chin, snaking loosely about your neck, and though it's hard to tell through the twisted armour that shields his face, you're almost certain he's smirking in what looks suspiciously like amusement. "It would be in your best interests to assure it remains, if you wish to cling to your pitiful shreds of life."  
  
Though you can't bow your head to look respectful, you can still turn your eyes downward a little and let the tension out of your body, and you do exactly that, trying to make a show of reverence as you sag in the unrelenting hold of the Qliphoth's branches. "My worth is yours," you whisper, and this time you don't even honestly care that your voice quavers. "My _power_ is yours. Use me as you will, my lord."  
  
The sound that rumbles through Urizen _is_ amused, the demonic analogue of laughter, and as inextricably linked to the Qliphoth as he is, it sends a shudder of vibration through the entire room (to say nothing of the thrill it sends through you.) "So eager...so _shamefully_ eager," he makes the sound again, raises a hand and flicks it in a lazy gesture, the branches that hold you responding immediately to bring you closer - close enough he can reach out, settle the point of a claw against your cheek and study you in distant fascination. "You are a most _intriguing_ puzzle, tenacious little worm. Perhaps you will be useful for entertainment as well." The claw presses into your flesh, a little pinprick of hot pain that makes you inhale sharply, and you'd almost _swear_ you can pick up the tiniest hint of a sweetly beguiling scent, but it's impossible to focus on that when your mind is clouding over and your entire body has grown shamefully warm, the thickly armoured plating that shields your more sensitive parts beginning to shift and retract instinctively - at any other time, you might find your reaction downright embarrassing, but right now even _that_ is pleasant for some reason, and you don't feel like it requires deep thought at the moment, Urizen's voice sending you into a dizzied haze. "Yes...entertainment, and...perhaps _more_."  
  
You would normally question what exactly was meant by 'more', but you're finding that rather difficult when eager tendrils are slithering forth from gaps in Urizen's root armour, the Qliphoth's eerie lighting glinting off the sheen of dark, metallic-smelling sap that coats them, any coherent feelings save for sheer _want_ seeming to simply fade into nothing.  
  
"That mouth of yours," Urizen continues, a low, self-satisfied growl, and brushes a tendril against your lips, "has been so _obedient_ \- and I trust it will remain so now. Open it--" and he's definitely smirking when you do so without question, the tendril immediately plunging inside, leaving thick, sticky smears along your lips and tongue and muffling your instinctive moan as the tang of copper fills your senses. (This sap must be born from the very lifeblood that pulses through the Qliphoth, you realise - and it is very nearly overwhelming that Urizen finds you worthy enough to share something so precious with you.) "Truly, you are _depraved_ , nothing but a lowly, desperate minx. To be so excited about something like this..." More tendrils are creeping along your body now, leaving sap in their wake that seems to scorch you pleasantly to the bone, and you hardly even feel the heat between your legs growing to match it until slick fluid dampens your inner thighs, your protective plating fully retracted now and leaving you completely exposed to the demon king's whims. "I could destroy you here and now, my vile lamb...and you would not only accept it, you would _beg_ for it. Your devotion is admirable, and I must reward it."  
  
_Yes,_ you think, wriggling in the branches' grip, _please--_ and as if they can hear and respond to your thoughts, the tendrils shiver with a low humming sound, the one in your mouth emitting a brief gush of sap as a second one finds your hot, pulsating entrance, plunging deep inside of you; the sensation of being so suddenly invaded is almost electric, making your back arch and a muffled cry splutter forth from your throat, and you nearly swear you hear a smug rumble of a laugh deep in Urizen's chest. "Utterly depraved, indeed," he almost purrs, low and resonant, and the slightest flick of his fingers has your living restraints shifting immediately, flipping you about so he has a most _perfect_ view of the rough tendril buried deep within your quivering walls, of the mixture of sap and arousal that leaks from you with even the slightest unconscious movement you make. "Even for a demon, you are thoroughly shameful...and you seem so very unbothered by this fact. I am impressed, little sapling - I wonder just _how_ far you are willing to go."  
  
You can't answer, of course, not with your mouth full and more of that thick sap filling you both above and below, but you _can_ make sounds and so you do, letting out a muffled whine and arching in your bonds in what you hope is an obvious invitation to find out; it seems to work, anyway, because a third tendril is soon darting between your spread legs to probe at your rear entrance and a fourth wraps itself round the thick shaft that protrudes from above your drenched cunt, and you're immediately keening out shrill pleasure at the overwhelming sensation of having both sets of sexual organs stimulated at once. Truly Urizen is _most_ magnanimous, you think, to please you so thoroughly - and then those tendrils are _moving_ , fucking your holes in deep alternating strokes and rippling along your needy erection, and you can't even think anymore, writhing in your bonds as you cry out as best you can with your mouth so thoroughly occupied. You're far from what anyone would consider innocent, but never in your entire life have you felt anything so intense, so utterly consuming to the extent that all of your common sense simply flies right out the figurative window...and if you _could_ think, you'd be demanding more of it, but instead all you can do is let the ecstacy sweep across every nerve and build to a fever pitch within you. You won't last like this, you're sure of it even if you don't know it coherently, and you - you--  
  
\--then the tendrils shift, twisting and curling within you and tightening around you, and your last remaining bit of self-control simply shatters away, your body nearly spasming in its bonds as orgasm relentlessly and unexpectedly takes you.  
  
"No shame," Urizen says in a low, breathy hiss, "none _whatsoever_ \--" and then the tendrils are pulling free, leaving you gasping as sap streams from your orifices and your cock throbs heavy and helpless against your belly, sufficiently distracted as to not realise the branches are maneuvering you still closer until they let go, sharp claws taking hold of your body instead in a tight and possessive grasp that makes you shiver. Surely what you're hoping for can't possibly be - but slitting your eyes open and peering hazily down reveals something you'd never in your wildest dreams thought you might see, gnarled roots shuddering and parting to expose a frankly enormous shaft that pulses visibly with desire, and you can't even manage to be the slightest bit embarrassed about the desperate crooning noise that escapes you. "Keeping you may very well be worth my while," he continues, manhandling you into position in his lap even as he speaks, and though he makes no audible sound when your sap-smeared flesh comes into contact with the very tip of him, you can _feel_ the ripple of sensation that goes through his body and you're privately proud of that. "Now tell me, little sapling. Tell me what it is you want."  
  
"You, my lord," you pant, unsure where you're finding the coherency to speak but certainly not complaining. "I want to feel you inside me. I want you to drive me out of my mind as you use me for your pleasure. I want you to claim me, to make me _yours_ \- please, my lord, oh, _please_..."  
  
"Shameful whelp," Urizen growls, almost sounding oddly _affectionate_ , but you can't dwell on that for too long when he's pulling you down onto him and the splitting pleasure-pain immediately drowns out any other feeling.  
  
Ruthless as befits a demon lord, he manipulates your body like a mere rag doll, moving you up and down on his cock with absolutely no regard for whether you feel agony or bliss - and truth be told, you aren't entirely sure which it is either, but you certainly don't want it to ever stop, gripping helplessly at the thick roots wound about his arms with enough force for your claws to puncture the stone-like bark that covers them and not even _trying_ to hold back your shrill cries. It's like nothing you've ever felt before, utterly indescribable, and you feel you're losing yourself more and more each time he bottoms out within you, the sap that remains clinging to your inner walls emitting utterly _lewd_ squelching noises with every movement that only arouse you further. (You dimly think you must be the luckiest demon in existence, in the history of _ever_ \- the thought is almost as overwhelming as the sensations, and you're not sure which is making you feel the _most_ right now, but you also aren't too fussed with trying to figure it out.) You'd almost believe at this point that you're no longer your own entity, that you're literally becoming one with him the longer he's inside of you and the fiercer his movements become, and perhaps the idea should be alarming but right now it's just about the best thing you've ever thought of; it isn't even about the power or the status, but the possibility of being able to feel like this _forever_ , to become nothing but a being of pure hedonism and delight at the whims of your lord--  
  
(Some very distant part of your mind is telling you that you ought to be ashamed of yourself, but you're very determinedly _not_ listening to it.)  
  
"You really are," Urizen hisses, panting a little now as more quivering tendrils tighten round you in proof that he's enjoying every moment of this as well, "completely _shameful_ \--" and at any other time you might feel you're being scolded, but right now even that is just adding another layer of pleasure to everything you're already feeling and your only response is more helpless crooning, clutching at his arms like a drowning man to a lifeline as his movements become somehow _rougher_ , his hips now lifting to meet yours every time he pulls you down again; the rough bark covering his body is scraping relentlessly at your thighs and drawing blood and even _that_ feels good, everything so overwhelming that you're feeling absolutely no pain any more, instead luxuriating in it as it brings you closer and closer to what's shaping up to be an utterly devastating release. (Perhaps, though you don't even honestly _dare_ to hope it consciously, your climax will be the catalyst for Urizen's own - it might be selfish of you, but _oh_ , how much you want it deep in your heart--) "Why are you still holding so stubbornly to that pitiful modicum of control? You _wanted_ this," a thin, sap-slick tendril curls about your cock, rippling and pulsing along the length of it in an erratic pattern that gives away the demon king's own comparative lack of control. "So show me just _how much_ you wanted it. How much you _do_ want it - want _me_."  
  
Something about the words, so plainly spoken, is raw and electric on the edges of your frayed restraint, and the last of it simply shatters away - there is no way you can even hope to disobey him now, and when his low snarl of "Now _come_ for me, little sapling--" reaches your ears, you do exactly that with a keening wail that echoes to the very depths of the Qliphoth.  
  
"Yes," Urizen groans, a most self-satisfied noise that sounds like the quaking of branches in a storm, "so _perfect_ \--" one more sharp thrust, two more, and his voice picks up into an unearthly roar, claws puncturing deep into the flesh of your hips as he pulls you forcibly down onto him one last time; the aching stretch as he _finally_ seats himself to the root within you is enough to send you straight into another release and the rush of heat that surges into you triggers a third right on its heels, mouth open wide in a silent scream and eyes rolled back so far that if you were coherent, you might think you ought to be seeing the inside of your skull. It's so much more powerful than you'd hoped, than you'd _imagined_ \- and you can only give in to the brilliant haze that claims you, your entire being, your entire _world_ nothing but a roiling tempest of overwhelming, painful bliss.  
  
You don't know how much time passes - a few seconds? Minutes? Longer still? - before he is shifting your barely-conscious form, lifting you free of him, and you snap back to semi-coherency with a rasping moan, turning hazy eyes downward to see the flood of thick saplike fluid that pours from you - even that is strangely erotic, and sheer exhaustion is the only reason your body doesn't respond with another surge of arousal. "Thank you, my lord," you manage, remembering your manners now that you can think again, and it's all you can do not to wince at how your voice feels like sandpaper to your abused throat. "You are...most munificent...to give me so much pleasure. I only hope...I was able to satisfy you just as thoroughly...?"  
  
Urizen doesn't answer at first, simply sizes you up with an unreadable expression as branches curl round your limbs, placing you back on the ground where you promptly sit down very hard, your rear landing with a soft _splat_ in the mess of come that has puddled beneath you. "Such feigned selflessness does not become you," he says finally, and you'd almost swear he might be smirking. "Yet I will indulge you and play your feeble game, little sapling. Such satisfaction as you have given me," he flicks a finger, and a branch lifts your head so your eyes meet his, insistent pressure beneath your chin preventing you from looking away. "Is truly rare. You have impressed me - and for that alone, I intend to keep you. Just see that you do not disappoint me; it would be almost a pity to have to end such a promising existence."  
  
Heat floods to your cheeks, and you're genuinely surprised; after all of that, you can still manage to _blush_ at the sentiment in Urizen's words? "I will not disappoint you," you say as strongly as you can, pushing the warm embarrassment aside in favor of what you hope is at least a somewhat neutral expression, taking a deep breath and willing your legs to behave long enough to pull yourself pridefully to your feet. "You have all of me, my lord. My power, my obedience - my everything, for as long as you wish it. You need only say the word, give the order, and I will carry it out." And you genuinely mean every word, knowing the honour you are being granted, knowing what it is you have got yourself into and not minding it a single whit. "I swear to it."  
  
He sizes you up, silent and impassive, finally waves his hand dismissively and settles back into his usual ponderous slouch. "I have a task you may perform once you are rested, then. One that must not be allowed to fail. Remember the oath you have sworn, and carry out your duty to the fullest - not that I need remind you," low amusement rumbles through him, through the Qliphoth itself, the faintest of quivers. "Now, listen closely."  
  
"Yes, my lord," you say, bowing your head in deference and focusing your ears intently on the words he next gives you.


End file.
